


Are you gonna dance with me?

by Lady_Michiru



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cheating, Clubbing, Daiki being straight, Drinking, Lack of Communication, M/M, Mild/non-descriptive sexual content, Smoking, Yuto being an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 02:47:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17654573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Michiru/pseuds/Lady_Michiru
Summary: Daiki has a crappy taste in gay clubs, Hikaru has a crappy taste in boyfriends. Maybe.





	Are you gonna dance with me?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BaneKicksDavid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaneKicksDavid/gifts).



> Dear Recipient-san, I tried to be as non-angsty as I could. I failed. I still hope there’s something you like in this fic.
> 
> Originally posted at JE-United fanfic exchange 2019, [here](https://je-united.livejournal.com/52534.html).

It wasn’t his kind of place. At all.

The dark electronic music was too loud, its synthetic beats pulsing into Hikaru’s synapses and doing nothing to appease his budding migraine. It was also a small joint, and the lights in the floor didn’t help with the fringe claustrophobia he was feeling.

But it’d been a crappy day in a crappy month, and an overall crappy life. So, maybe the dingy atmosphere was kind of suiting. In spite of the cages and poles.

Plus, Daiki had insisted they went there.

He eyed his office mate and friend, sitting by his side at the bar, with a wondering smile in his eyes like he was on a fieldtrip. To a gay club. Hikaru sighed into his watered down scotch. Daiki could have the crappiest taste in clubs －gay or not－ but he was a good lad. And so damn straight he didn’t even flinch when guys hit on him.

“You're certainly more popular than I am in this place,” Hikaru said, chuckling at Daiki’s surprised and guilty expression after the latter had politely refused yet another proposal. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to pick up guys. I know how that usually ends.”

Daiki looked at him, but his smile was enigmatic. “You can’t predict all the possible futures, Hikka.”

Hikaru just shrugged.

But he should have known better.

 

 

 

Hikaru saw him standing at the edge of the dance floor the instant Daiki dragged him there. Tall, dark-haired, slender. And well, maybe Hikaru did have a type after all. The guy was wearing a simple shirt with two buttons undone, the skinniest black jeans Hikaru had ever seen, and sunglasses; indoor. At night.

A shit-eating grin that shouldn’t look adorable hung on the guy’s lips as he sipped on his own drink, his attitude inviting, open. Maybe the tequila shots Daiki had managed to force into him were working its magic on Hikaru’s head, because the world was a bit blurry. Then the stranger laughed and somehow his presence became the only sharp thing in the universe.

The music was still far from Hikaru’s taste, but he let the world spin and spin to the rhythm around and within.

 

 

 

He didn’t notice when Daiki left. He just noticed when the tall man came his way, without his redundant sunglasses. His eyes burnt bright in the neon night.

His body was sharp against Hikaru’s as they danced, his movements liquid heat. Five minutes into it Hikaru had to grab his shoulders for support, because he was suddenly afraid of falling. He could feel the other man’s chuckle above the sultry bass of the slow song playing.

Hikaru couldn’t even blame the booze. His head was totally clear as he spoke the first words between them. “I can’t kiss you if I don’t know your name.”

With a whisper against his lips, the other man stopped being a stranger.

 

 

 

His name was Yabu Kota, and he was a good kisser. He pressed against Hikaru, his body softly asking questions that Hikaru’s was eager to answer, making Hikaru’s pulse race. Against a wall, at a dark corner of the club, Yabu’s hands felt like an anchor, firmly planted at his hips. Keeping them flush together.

“Wanna go for a smoke?” Yabu’s voice teased Hikaru’s ear and lit his body in a new wave of fire.

“Outside?” Hikaru asked, being dense on purpose. Yabu’s tone was clear enough. “It’s illegal to smoke on the street, you know?”

Yabu chuckled. “I live nearby.”

It was a terrible idea, but he kissed Yabu anyway, saying yes without using words.

 

 

 

They got to Yabu’s apartment after a quick walk, a couple of blocks of silence, and Yabu’s fingertips brushing his just as Hikaru was about to bail out.

There was enough alcohol in Hikaru’s system to make reality soft at the edges, and Yabu’s tongue at his throat made sure he forgot about everything else.

 

 

 

“How do you want me?” Yabu’s voice was raspy, his eager hands roaming Hikaru’s skin like he was mapping every weak spot he could find. And he was good at it too.

Hikaru looked up, at Yabu’s scorching eyes and then at his lips, bruised from kissing. Almost as a reflex his thumb traced them, idly. Wondering…

“I don’t blow guys on the first date,” Yabu said, an eyebrow perfectly arched in amusement. His eyes were fixed on Hikaru’s when he licked the pad of his thumb.

“Cruel,” Hikaru gasped, almost out of air. All his blood seemed to be pooled between his legs. “Do you fuck them on the first date?”

“If they ask nicely.”

“Would you fuck me?” Hikaru teased, his hands going south, barely grazing the obvious bulge in Yabu’s underwear. “Please?” he added, just to be a tool.

Yabu laughed, and his eyes sparkled.

 

 

 

“Ready?” Yabu’s voice sounded caring in spite of its breathlessness, a low purr that turned Hikaru into molten heat.

“Yeah.”

Hikaru cupped Yabu’s nape, brought their foreheads together, and closed his eyes as Yabu slowly entered him.

The rhythm was wrong at first. It’d been a while, and there was still enough tequila in him to hack the connection between his brain and his body; but Yabu was skilfull. Hikaru wondered, briefly, how experienced a guy had to be to read a complete stranger with so much precision. Then Yabu found the right angle, and Hikaru stopped thinking.

~~~

He woke up to the message notification sound of his phone. Daiki, wanting to know if he was alive. It was already eight in the morning, but Yabu’s tiny apartment faced west so the light wasn’t bright. And Yabu was still asleep.

After answering Daiki, and promising him the whole story when they met, Hikaru considered the lanky body sprawled on the double bed, like he wasn’t used to share it.

“Why are you awake?” Yabu’s muffled voice sounded aggravated. Hikaru tried not to laugh.

“It’s late. I should be going,” he said, looking at the clothes scattered on the floor and mentally locating his to pick them up.

“Can I have your number before you run away?”

Hikaru felt his stomach sink a little. He’d sworn he’d take better choices after the last romantic disaster he’d survived, but there he was. All but making the same mistakes.

“I’m sorry,” he tried to sound casual. “I don’t… I’m not exactly looking for a relationship right now…”

“Cool,” Yabu said, the last end of the word getting swallowed by a huge yawn. “So, can I have your number?”

Bad choices. All over again.

~~~

“Wanna meet at the club?” the message read. No emoji. No embellishments. No pressure that Hikaru could feel.

He stared at Yabu’s name on his phone long enough for Daiki to notice.

“You should give him a chance, Hikka,” Daiki said, munching on his combini onigiri with fake nonchalance. “He’s not－”

Hikaru silenced him with just one look.

“It’s been a year, Hikka,” Daiki insisted, but he didn’t meet Hikaru’s eyes. “Not every guy you meet at a club is going to be an asshole.”

“I wish you had a girlfriend so you’d mind your own business for a change,” Hikaru said, not addressing the issue. Daiki didn’t press on.

~~~

“Would you try contacting me again if I didn’t text back?” Hikaru read his own message for the hundredth time, with his thumb hovering over the delete button.

He breathed in deep. And pressed Send before throwing his phone on the bed.

He went to the bathroom and splashed water on his face, hating the butterflies on his stomach.

When the phone chimed with the message notification he stared at it for a whole minute before picking it up.

“Would you want me to?” it said.

Hikaru went for a walk, and smoked a cigarette and a half before typing, slowly, “okay, let’s meet at the club.”

~~~

“You come here a lot?” Hikaru asked, sipping on yet another glass of scotch. It was still early on a Friday night, not many people around, and the music was playing at a volume that made conversation possible.

“Actually, I work here,” Yabu answered, tossing back what was left of his own drink.

“Work?” Hikaru asked, mildly afraid of the possibilities.

“Oh my god, your face!” Yabu laughed loud enough to be heard over the music and the ambient noise. “I dance!” he added, pointing at one of the steel poles placed on strategic points of the club.

“Shouldn’t you be working then?” The image of Yabu’s body swirling around the pole to the beat of provocative songs seemed very enticing all of the sudden.

“It’s my day off, I’m only here for the free drinks,” Yabu said, as he motioned to the bartender for another. “You should come see me though. I’m good.”

“And humble,” Hikaru added.

“And humble,” Yabu agreed, his eyes swallowed by the wrinkles around them as he smiled, blazing light, neon and warmth radiating off him.

 

 

 

Yabu still tasted of free gin and tonic when he kissed him later, in his apartment; the salt of his skin mixed in took away the bitterness.

~~~

“You’re giving me that look again,” Hikaru said, trying to be accusing but only managing to sound a bit annoyed.

“Stop projecting your insecurities on me, Yaotome,” Daiki said, and continued eating his nikuman.

“You’re sounding like a self-help book,” Hikaru retorted, taking a bite off his own steamed rice bun. “How do you eat these things? They’re awful!”

“They’re good if you’re not used to home food. Why are you eating them if you don’t like them, anyway?” Daiki asked. He could get incredibly defensive over combini food. “Don’t you cook your own lunch?”

“Yeah, well…” Hikaru evaded Daiki’s eyes and kept eating. Yabu’s kitchen wasn’t really well stocked, because the only time Yabu used it was to transfer take-out onto a plate.

“You slept at Yabu’s again.” Daiki’s voice was matter-of-fact, with an undertone of victory that kind of made Hikaru want to punch him.

“It’s not like that, Dai-chan,” Hikaru said, trying to be patient. “I’m not ready for a committed relationship. And I know It’s been a year, okay?” Hikaru said, stopping Daiki from speaking. “But, I prefer to keep this casual.”

“You don’t do casual, Hikka,” Daiki said. Hikaru just rolled his eyes.

~~~

Yabu was sound in motion. He flowed effortlessly on the stage, dazzling Hikaru and all the patrons of the club. A white faux patent leather outfit clung tightly to his lean body, contrasting with Yabu’s pale golden skin, highlighting his sensuous movements. The music throbbed on Hikaru’s veins. Melted desire and hunger running wild to the beat of his racing heart.

But what held Hikaru captive were Yabu’s eyes. Eyelined burning coals staring right into Hikaru’s soul.

~~~

It was Friday again. Deep night found them on Yabu’s tiny apartment, the scent of frenzy and them all around.

Yabu was on his knees, teasing kisses on Hikaru’s hipbone until Hikaru thought he would explode or scream, or both.

“You’re a fucking tease,” Hikaru said, in a huff. No air in his lungs, no thoughts on his brain.

“You love it.” Yabu’s voice was also strained, but Hikaru could feel the smile in it.

Then Yabu finally took him in, into the wet, hot glory of his mouth, his eyes never leaving his. Burning the night away.

~~~

It was meant to be a surprise. That was what Hikaru told himself. They had not agreed to meet, he’d sent no message in advance.

Maybe deep down he knew what he was going to find. What he was looking for. He’d bet Daiki had some theories as well.

It still felt like a knife cutting through his gut, leaving everything frozen on its wake.

The club wasn’t packed yet, it was early for the show. And Yabu was on the dancefloor. Kissing another guy.

~~~

“I’m sorry,” Daiki said, staring into his beer.

“Not your fault, Dai-chan.” Hikaru tossed back his own glass. It was the fifth of the night and it wasn’t working. He still couldn’t unsee Yabu with the other guy, and his brain kept mixing and matching the images with the memories of a year back.

“Did you talk with him, though?”

Hikaru remembered the missed calls, the worried messages. He’d turned off his phone after the text number ten. More than his ex had ever attempted, but still. “He owes me no explanation.”

“You don’t do casual, Hikka.” Daiki sighed, and kept eating his yakitori.

~~~

“Kota?” Hikaru asked, idiotically. The form posted at the door of his apartment couldn’t be anyone else.

He looked tired. His baggy street clothes made him look vulnerable. Hikaru couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under Yabu’s eyes. It made his heart sink, a low ache spreading all over.

“We need to talk, Hikaru,” Yabu said, pleading.

Hikaru kept open the door for him to enter.

 

 

 

“Arioka went to the club. He gave me your address,” Yabu said. “Told me about the other day.”

“Yeah, that…” Hikaru felt the pads of his fingers tingle. He needed a smoke, but he didn’t move.

“You said you weren’t looking for a relationship.” Yabu sounded sheepish, and he kept playing with the edge of the coaster under the water glass Hikaru had brought him from the kitchen. “I took it at face value. It’s happened before. I’m used to it.”

“I guess I just don’t do casual.” Hikaru’s self deprecating chuckle made Yabu frown.

“For what it’s worth, I haven’t slept with anyone else since we began seeing each other,” Yabu said. “I really like you.”

“I… fuck.” Hikaru couldn’t stand it any longer, he walked to the window and lit a cigarette.

“I’m not stupid, Hikaru.” Yabu stood up, but kept his distance. “I know this isn’t just about me.”

“It isn’t,” Hikaru said, after a deep drag from his smoke. He massaged his face with his free hand, searching for the words that escaped him.

“Talk to me,” Yabu said. The brief contact of his hand on Hikaru’s shoulder felt anchoring.

***

Nakajima Yuto. Twenty-five years old. Okay musician, average salary man. Excellent dancer.

They’d met at a club. A generic one. He was the friend of a friend. Something like that.

They’d danced all night that first time; had ended up drunk at a karaoke place, waiting for the trains to start running. Yuto’s jacket had covered the security camera and the darkness of the room had shrouded them as Yuto’s hand jerked off Hikaru to the rhythm of some old idol’s song.

Tall, dark and handsome. Hikaru surely had a type.

They hadn’t exactly been dating. Hikaru understood it, or at least his brain did. He’d tried to make it work, in spite of Yuto’s lack of commitment. The sex was great, but Daiki was right; Hikaru’s heart didn’t do casual.

He had found out Yuto had a girlfriend a couple of months later, when he’d walked on them kissing at the same club they’d met.

Yuto hadn’t even minded when Hikaru had stopped calling.

***

Hikaru sat on the floor of his apartment, two cigarettes and his whole heartache story later. Yabu sat by his side, shoulders touching. He’d listened in silence, and had even joined Hikaru when he was smoking his last cigarette.

“I’m not him,” Yabu said, eons later, breaking the silence.

“I know,” Hikaru answered, but still couldn’t face him. He feared what he’d see in Yabu’s eyes.

“Maybe. But I’m still paying for things I didn’t do.” Yabu sighed, and put out his smoke in the ashtray Hikaru had placed on the floor between them.

“I still caught you kissing another guy,” Hikaru said. But it had began sounding like an excuse even to his own ears.

“When I had no idea you wanted to be exclusive.” Yabu sat up to crouch in front of Hikaru. “I’m a good pole dancer, but my telepathic skills are rusty. You should have said something before, saved us the pain.”

Yabu caressed Hikaru’s cheek, and Hikaru could feel in his bones the spirit of goodbye when Yabu leaned in to kiss his forehead.

“Stay,” Hikaru said, and took Yabu’s hand. “Please,” he added. He wasn’t being facetious right then.

It was past due he began making better choices.

~~~

“I still think you were out of line,” Hikaru said, unpacking two lunch boxes from his bag and offering one to Daiki, who looked at him with eyes huge and anxious. “You had no business giving him my address.”

“But you’re feeding me,” Daiki said, eyeing the home-made lunch with hunger and fear in equal measure.

The truth was that Hikaru had began cooking for Yabu some days ago, and increasing the quantity for a day hadn’t been an issue; but he wasn’t about to reveal the juicy details of their reconciliation to Daiki yet. He was, after all, kind of mad with him.

“You need real food too or you’ll never grow up,” Hikaru said, with just enough malice for Daiki to make a face at him.

“You’re an idiot.” Still, Daiki digged into the food with gusto.

“Thank you,” Hikaru said.

And maybe Daiki understood he wasn’t talking about the insult.


End file.
